Paying Respects
by alicekinsno1
Summary: For the first time in eleven years, Clair Leonelli decides to go visit his mother's grave. Takes place post-series and contains some spoilers.


_A/N: Because I'm desperate to have a "Heat Guy J" fanfic to my name (and the other one I'm working on is coming along more slowly than I would like) I decided to write this. Call it a Mother's Day gift to the fandom._

_This story takes place post-series and is very heavily based on my own personal speculation, since Clair's mother was never a character in the series proper. It also considers only the anime, and not the manga, drama CD's, or any other "Heat Guy J" related media that wasn't released in the US, so if any of the information in here contradicts anything in those media, that's why._

* * *

It was a warm, sunny day as Clair Leonelli stepped out of his car, a bouquet of white lilies clutched tightly in his hand. His eyes quickly scanned his surroundings, to see if there was anyone else around, but the coast seemed to be clear. Then again, he reasoned, he probably didn't need to worry—even if other people did see him they'd probably hail him as a hero, after all he had done in the battle to save Judoh. The thought was enough to make his face split into a grin.

"Just tell me where you want me to be, Master Clair," said Giovanni earnestly, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Clair turned to his bodyguard with a small smile on his face. "Eh, you can just wait here. Just make sure you don't lose sight of me."

"Will do," said Giovanni.

Clair then turned his attention to the cemetery across the street from the alley where his car was parked. It was a good deal smaller than the one where his father was buried, but it was green and sat in the shade of a pleasant-looking wooden church. "So, this is the place where they buried Mama?"

"The very same," said Mauro. "Does it look the same as you remember it?"

Clair furrowed his brow. "Eh, how should I know? That was more than eleven years ago now." And with that, he set off across the street. As he approached the cemetery, his heart beat fast and his breathing became shallow, as memories of his father telling him that he must never, ever visit his mother's grave came flooding back to him. He almost fell over, and he had to grab the gate to steady himself.

"Master Clair!"

Clair felt Giovanni's comforting dark shadow behind him, and he turned to face his bodyguard.

"Master Clair, are you alright? You don't look so good."

Clair smiled weakly. "Yeah...I'm fine. I was just...thinking of Papa-but I feel better now. He's dead. He can't tell me what to do." With that, he took a deep breath and stepped into the cemetery.

He strolled between the gravestones, his eyes switching from one to the other as he searched for his own family's name among them. Almost none of the people buried in this cemetery had any sort of connection to any of the crime families, and so none of the names he encountered looked remotely familiar. He tried to call up a memory from the one time he had visited her grave before, but that was so long ago that nothing occurred to him.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't notice two people walking toward him, but when he heard a child's voice say, "Mom, is—is that Clair Leonelli?!" he was so startled that he jumped, and spun around to find himself facing a woman, who was accompanied by a boy of about eleven or twelve.

"Yes," said the woman, her voice shaking. "That is Clair Leonelli." She then turned to face Clair. "Are you here to visit your mother's grave?"

Clair just nodded quietly.

"If I show you where it is, do you promise you won't hurt me or my son?"

"I'm completely unarmed," said Clair, smiling in what he hoped was a friendly manner.

"Good. Come with me." She turned down one of the paths through the cemetery, and Clair followed her obediently.

"Mom, what's Clair Leonelli doing here? And how did you know he's here visiting his mom's grave?"

"Because he's your cousin."

"Clair Leonelli's my cousin?!" The boy turned to look back at Clair with a shocked expression on his face.

His mother just nodded gravely. "I'll explain it all when we get home."

They walked a little further in silence, until they came upon a shade tree, beneath which was a small tombstone decorated with a wreath of flowers, both of which were covered in soft green leaves. "This is Mama's grave?" Clair asked.

The woman nodded. She then turned to her son. "Let's leave him alone. We'll come back later."

Clair watched the two of them go for a short time before he laid the lilies down beside the wreath of flowers, and then he wracked his brains to think of something suitable to say—but nothing occurred to him. Instead he crouched down before the tombstone, studying it. Above his mother's name a tiny angel was carved into the rock; the rest of the stone was bare. His eyes scanned the stone until at last they came to rest on the dates at the bottom: _J.D. 363-383_. "Mama…were you really that young when you died? Just twenty years old?" he murmured. "I'm almost twenty. It must be terrible, being dead at that age."

A ray of sunlight caught on the blue stone on the large, ornate ring Clair wore, making it shimmer. "Of course, he wasn't much older, was he?" he said, staring at the ring. "He was just twenty-one." Then a thought struck him, and he dug into his pocket and pulled out two translucent dice. "And he was just twenty-five." A lump formed in his throat as he studied the ring and the dice. "They…they both died to protect me, so I could live. Just like you, right? You died for me. You died so I could be born." Now his throat was feeling raw and scratchy, and his breath came out in noisy gasps. "They're both in heaven with you now, aren't they? Have you met them yet? Do you get along? I wonder how much they've told you about me. Has Mitchal told you about that time he made me all those triangle-shaped cookies—I don't remember what he called them anymore—for my birthday…and…and I didn't even eat them because I t-thought they were g-gross? Or—or the time Ian worked with me to put together G-Giovanni's mech…?"

Warm tears rolled down his face, and splashed into the grass and onto the flowers. Clair had to wrap his arms around his legs to keep himself from falling over. "W-why am I crying?" he said, to no one in particular. Then, he said a little louder: "Mama, why am I crying? Do I really miss you that much? But…I never even knew you." Blinking away tears, he said: "Y-you don't blame me for killing you, do you? I didn't mean to kill you. I didn't do it on purpose." He stared at the gravestone, feeling the tears rolling down his cheeks. The gravestone just stared back, impassive. "Can you even hear me at all?" he asked, frowning.

He shook his head quickly. This was no good. He had to find something else to talk about. "So," he continued, clearing his throat, "what about that huge battle I helped lead on Kabuki Road, huh?" He felt the corners of his mouth lift. "Could you see it from where you are? I got all kinds of people together and we all fought for control of our streets—and I won!" He paused and reflected for a beat. "Well, we won, technically, but I was the one they all rallied around. I even got to show off our fireworks! Everyone was so happy! They…they said I was a hero! Isn't that great? Are you proud of me?" All the tears seemed to have dried from his face, and he squeezed his legs in delight. "I've got everything I ever wanted now," he went on. "Everyone respects me as the leader of Company Vita. They let me rule the streets…and I think I'm learning how to do it right now, so nobody comes after me anymore. I'm just…so happy, Mama!" He beamed, and he felt twice as happy as he normally was when he recounted his adventures. He felt sure that he was glowing from happiness.

"Master Clair!" It was Giovanni's voice. Clair turned his head in the direction of the sound to see Giovanni coming toward him, with Mauro following close behind. They must have crossed the street and come into the cemetery while Clair was preoccupied.

"What is it, Giovanni?" Clair said, a touch of annoyance in his voice.

"We should probably get out of here pretty soon," said Giovanni. "It's getting late, and if you stay here any longer we could get in trouble."

Clair quickly looked around him. The coast still seemed to be clear, but the sun was setting, and the big city buildings were starting to cast shadows. "That's true," he said. "I'll be there in a minute."

Giovanni and Mauro turned to walk toward the car, but before Clair followed them he turned back to his mother's grave one more time. "So…like I said," he said quickly, "I'm very happy. I hope you don't mind if I don't come join you for a while, but at least you have Ian and Mitchal to keep you company." He sighed. "Anyway, be happy in heaven and I'll try to come visit you sometime."

"Master Clair!"

"I'm coming!" Clair called out, running after Giovanni and Mauro back to the car.

As they drove home, Clair couldn't help but ask: "Mauro, was Mama really twenty when she died?"

"She wasn't even twenty," said Mauro seriously.

Clair's eyes widened in shock.

"Mitchal was also born before his mother was twenty," Giovanni put in quickly. "He told me, so I know it's so. Lots of people have kids that young."

"I know that," said Clair, trying to force annoyance into a voice that was choked with sadness over the memory of Mitchal and Ian. He'd been to both of their graves by now. They were in two different cemeteries. Mitchal's grave was covered by a veil, which according to Mauro would remain there until a year had passed since his death. Clair took a deep, shuddering breath as his face twisted into a mirthless smile. "All these people died for me…and to think, they weren't that much older than I was. Mama was the same age I am now." Now Clair was crying for the second time that day.

"If it's any consolation, Master Clair," said Mauro, "I'm sure your mother was much happier with the way things turned out than if she'd lived a long life but never had you. I'll never forget how happy she sounded when she called me at work one day, and told me that she was going to have a child." His voice was wistful.

"What was Mama like?" asked Clair.

"She was sweet and gentle and beautiful."

Clair rolled his eyes. "I know that already. Tell me more."

"Her family owned a bakery. She spent most of her time working there to support herself and help her sister get through high school."

Something inside of Clair's head clicked. "Oh! I remember now! We were there before, weren't we?"

"We were," said Giovanni. "On your eighth birthday."

"I'd like to go back there tomorrow."

"Master Clair," said Mauro, "are you sure that's a good idea?" Clair had been more willing to socialize with the common people of Judoh since the Battle of Kabuki Road, but he still didn't always know how to go about it.

"Yeah, I'm sure," said Clair. "I wanna see that place again. I wanna meet my auntie and cousin. Maybe I can learn more about Mama from them."

He was so enthusiastic that Mauro simply said, "If you say so, Master. But I should caution you not to come into the neighborhood again afterwards. You'll attract too much attention if you go there too regularly."

"Whatever," was Clair's only response. Then a thought struck him. "Oh, and make sure to get more lilies. Colorful ones."

"Anything you say, Master," said Mauro, as they drove down the streets in the direction of the Leonellis' home.

* * *

_A/N: Yeaaaah, I know it ends on a bit of a cliffhanger. I did have a second scene prepared, but it meandered enough from what I was trying to do with the first scene that I decided not to bother. I may post a sequel or a second chapter if there's enough interest, but I think this is an appropriate ending for now._


End file.
